This morning we went to my least favourite cafe in Ballard, bought some pastries and took the kids to one of the nearby parks. Destroyer has learned how to play on the swings independent of being pushed, and La Serpiente was demonstrated feats of strength and bravery by riding up and down a small hill on her bicycle. I was particularly pleased that even falling off didn’t faze her: she just carried on, like a very cute little machine.
We went down to Ballard Market where I had my monthly meat (a rather disappointing pork sausage sandwich, but with a delicious fried egg), we bought more cider, a small goose for my Blood Bowl team, and overspent on ramen that my kids then stole from my wife.
It was a lovely sunny day and we had hoped to drive out to the Olympic Peninsula, but time got away from us, so we went home and drank cider while the children played. I read a very strange bit of fiction by a guy called Nate Cowley – 75 days of increasingly apocalyptic birthday celebrations, via Twitter, and I also finished my first book of the year, Severed, a Games Workshop story about evil Egyotian space Terminators. And senile dementia. So that was strange.
Oh, and I bought a case for my banjo. I wonder if that provides any further competence. We have to hope…